


locked hearts and hand grenades

by astano



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 22:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astano/pseuds/astano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn wasn’t quite ready to believe in the reality of zombies, but, honestly, she was running out of other explanations for why she kept seeing people being <em>bitten</em> by other people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The radio crackled to life, momentarily startling Quinn from her thoughts.

_The following cities are scheduled to cleansed within the next twenty-four hours. All remaining citizens are urged to leave the vicinity as quickly as possible…_

Quinn zoned out, only half listening to the man as he droned out a list of cities. It had been two weeks since the broadcasts started and, thankfully, Lima had not been targeted yet. She still remembered the first broadcast, the man on the other side of the radio calmly informing them that the military were taking unprecedented action to stop the spread of the virus. They would be ‘cleansing’ whole areas, which roughly translated to dropping bombs and levelling cities to the ground. It was harsh, but what was left of the government had deemed it necessary.

They weren’t sure if the broadcasts were from an official source, but the man on the other side of the radio seemed certain and they were not about to take the chance that he was making this up.

Suddenly, Quinn was pulled out of her thoughts when the words Lima, Ohio, were broadcast over the radio.

“Shit,” she shouted, jumping up from her seat. “Shit, shit, shit.” Puck came running into the room, gun drawn and eyes quickly scanning. She looked up frantically at him. “We have to leave. Now! They just said Lima was getting cleansed today.”

“Fuck,” Puck holstered his weapon and dropped his half-smoked cigarette to the ground, crushing it out with the heel of his boot. He left the room, shouting at everyone to get ready to leave within the hour.

Quinn could hear movement throughout the house as the rest of the group packed up their belongings and started throwing them into the back of the three cars parked in the driveway outside. Quinn gathered the few items scattered around the room, shoving them haphazardly into a couple of bags, and quickly moved down the stairs and out to the front of the building.

They had been planning for days, knowing they would have to leave Lima at some point, but hoping to do so before the notification of cleansing was given out. The trucks were packed full of supplies, camping equipment, food, medical supplies and most importantly, weapons.

As Quinn drew nearer to the cars, she spotted Santana and Brittany hoisting a couple of heavy duffle bags into the back of the nearest. She threw her things after them and was about to jump into the driver’s seat when she realised she hadn’t seen Rachel all morning.

“Where’s Rachel?” She asked Santana.

“Um, I think she went out early this morning with Finn to try to access the mall again.”

“Fuck!” Quinn slammed her fist down on the hood of the car, panic flashing through her eyes. “Why didn’t anyone tell me they were going?”

“Probably because they knew you wouldn’t take it well and we desperately needed the supplies.” Santana placed a hand on Quinn’s arm, trying to reassure her.

“That clumsy bastard better not have gotten her killed.” Quinn seethed, her hands clenching into fists at the thought. Finn couldn’t aim a gun if his life depended on it, and nowadays, more often than not, it did. “Has anyone tried to reach them on the walkie talkie?”

Santana shook her head. “No signal. They must be out of range.” The walkie talkies were salvaged from Brittany’s house at the start of the spread of the infection. She and Santana used to use them as kids to talk to each other from their bedrooms. When Quinn found out, she thought at any other time she would have found the image of two ten year olds snuggled in their own beds whispering late into the night unbearably cute. Now, not so much. They had a ridiculously short range, but they were all they had, so it became an unwritten rule that people leaving the house were to take one with them, just in case.

“Okay, I’m going to find them. You guys can ride with Puck or Kurt. We’ll meet ten miles outside of the city. That should be far enough away.”

Santana nodded and moved back with Brittany to one of the other cars. Quinn checked that her weapon was fully loaded and that she had some spare clips in the pockets of her cargo pants, hoisted herself up into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

She sped out of her driveway and down towards the centre of Lima. The streets were mostly deserted, the infected preferring the darkness of night to the bright light of day. It didn’t mean she was safe, however. One whiff of her scent and she could find herself surrounded, the infected seemed to have noses better than the best of tracking dogs. The car gave her an advantage, but in groups large enough, they could slow down and take over anything.

The mall had always been too dangerous to attempt in the past, the infected seemed to gather in places that had high levels of traffic before the outbreak. Quinn could only hope that Rachel and Finn being gone for so long meant the area was clear enough for them to attempt a raid. They alternative was simply unthinkable.

After ten minutes of driving through the almost deserted streets, Quinn tore up to the entrance of the mall, abandoning her car sideways in front of the large double doors. There didn’t seem to be anyone around, but that didn’t mean she was safe. Anything could be lurking in the shadows of the building, just waiting to catch her unawares. She switched off the engine and slid out of the car, then grabbed a baseball bat from the back seat and checked her gun was ready to be drawn, should it be needed. The infected were drawn to noise, so if she could, she would avoid drawing her weapon. The baseball bat was suitable for taking on one or two of the infected at a time. They were fairly predictable in their attacking pattern and so were usually only dangerous in large groups or where they had the element of surprise.

Quinn moved quickly but quietly to the front door of the mall, peering around and making sure her way was clear. Sensing nothing ahead, she moved through and down the corridor. The shops on either side of her were abandoned, their front windows shattered and insides trashed. She didn’t look too closely inside, a quick sweep with her eyes to look for movement was all she allowed herself, knowing, if she were to pay closer attention, she would begin to see the shapes of people, dismembered, shredded, half eaten. She shuddered, moving forward at a quick but cautious pace.

If Rachel and Finn were around, they would surely be at the camping store. They were desperately in need of camping stoves, sure that when they left the city, the light of a fire would attract the attention of any infected in the surrounding area. Camping stoves were easily shielded and so a necessity.

Quinn followed the corridor until it forked. She was pretty certain the camping store was off to the right so she headed down that way. The further she moved into the mall, the darker it became. There were no lights, only the sun shining in through the sparsely placed windows in the roof provided any illumination and it was becoming hard to make out more than twenty or so yards ahead.

The man was almost on top of her before she noticed him. His shuffling gait and empty eyes marking him immediately as infected.

“Fuck,” she muttered. She wasn’t worried, she could easily take out a single infected and had taken on many more than that at once, but the fact he had managed to get so close meant she hadn’t been paying enough attention, more concerned with the thought of what had happened to Rachel. And Finn.

She advanced on the man, raising the baseball bat and readying it to strike. When he was in range, she swung hard, the length of the bat connecting with his head with a sickening crunch. She was never more grateful for Coach Sylvester’s vigorous training regimen, which she had continued even after leaving the Cheerios, than when flexibility, stamina and upper body strength became necessities for survival.

Blood splattered sideways as the man crumpled to the floor. She launched herself forward, bringing the bat down a few more times until the face became a mass of blood and brain matter. The first time it happened, she had thrown up immediately after, the sight too much for her to take, but now, two months later, she was barely affected. She kicked the body off to the side and continued down the corridor, more alert now than before.

In the time she had to herself, it often worried her how little she was affected anymore by the constant battle their life had become. They did what they needed to survive, but where once things were done with reluctance, now they were par for the course, actions undertaken without second thought. They had all become numb to death, to violence, to everything.

As Quinn moved nearer to the location of the camping store, she began to hear quiet, muffled sounds, almost like someone was crying.

She rounded the last corner and was greeted with the sight of Finn on his knees in front of a body, Rachel holding him by the shoulder and whispering something in his ear. As she got closer, she began to make out the words Finn was saying between sobs.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know… too many… thought there was no one left.”

She called out as loudly as she dared and Rachel turned to her, beckoning her over.

“What happened?” Quinn asked as she got close.

“H—he came out of nowhere,” Rachel said. “Finn swung at him and it was too late… He wasn’t infected, Quinn.”

Quinn looked down in shock. The man was the first survivor they had seen in weeks. They had been so sure they were the only ones left in all of Lima. She felt a brief surge of sympathy for Finn, but couldn’t even begin to express it. They had to leave, there wasn’t time for grief.

“We have to go,” she said to Rachel. “Lima was on the list this morning. The others are already on their way out of town. We have to go now.”

Rachel nodded, turning to Finn who was still crying and mumbling under his breath. “Finn, come on,” she said gently, placing an arm under his shoulder and trying to get him to stand. “It wasn’t your fault. Come on, we have to go.”

Quinn moved around the other side and, between the two of them, they managed to get Finn up and moving back towards the entrance. Once they were walking, Quinn dropped her arm, leaving Rachel to guide Finn forward as she scanned the area for any dangers.

“Did you get what we needed?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder at Rachel.

Rachel shook her head. “No. The shop was trashed. We did manage to find a few bits and pieces that might be useful, but no camping stoves.”

Quinn didn’t say anything, just nodded and moved further ahead, raising her bat into the ready position and taking in everything around them.

Finn was still almost catatonic. While Quinn appreciated that killing another human being was somewhat of a shock to the system, she could waste any time feeling sorry for him. They had to make it out of the mall alive and then out of Lima before the cleansing started. Although they knew it was going to happen today, they didn’t know _when_ today. It meant time was of the essence.

They were rounding the final corner of the mall, the entrance a mere hundred yards ahead, when a large crash off to their left startled them all. Quinn whipped round, eyes quickly moving to assess the situation. Four of the infected were slowly making their way out of a nearby store. Quinn debated making a run for it, but they gained surprising speed at the smell of the trio.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “Finn, get your ass into gear, we’re going to have to take them out.”

She spun, quickly advancing on the leader of the group and took him down with a blow to the head. She made no move to check he was dead, knowing Rachel would be close behind, delivering a certain fatal shot with the crossbow she favoured. The final three were spread out and Quinn moved to the left most, hearing the whizz of a bolt going flying past her head and the thunk as it connected with its target.

They were almost ridiculously easy to take out in such small numbers. Quinn finished her target off with a few well placed blows and heard the final infected hit the ground after another shot from Rachel.

She spun around and gave Rachel a quick grin. They made an awesome team. Finn was still stood back, seemingly paying no attention to what was happening at all.

Just as they were about to set off again, a series of further crashes echoed around the mall.

“Shit,” Quinn said. “We must have alerted them to our presence. C’mon, let’s go!”

They each took one side of Finn and made a break for the entrance before any more of the infected figured out their position. They burst through the doors to the mall in a crash of heavy footsteps and ragged breaths, hurling themselves towards the car and pushing Finn into the backseat.

Quinn jumped in the driver’s side and was expecting Rachel to get in when she saw her running back towards the entrance.

“Rachel, what the fuck are you doing?” She screamed.

“You’ll see, Quinn. Start the engine and be ready to leave.”

Rachel dug her hands into her backpack and drew out two objects. Suddenly realising exactly what Rachel was planning, Quinn cursed and started the engine, holding it ready to go. Rachel pulled the pins out of the two grenades she was holding, opened the door, threw them inside and was back inside the car in seconds.

Quinn floored the gas and was halfway down the street when the loud bang of the explosion echoed after them.

“Nice one,” Quinn said, glancing quickly at Rachel.

“Well, as we won’t be needing to raid the mall for any further supplies, I thought removing a few more of them from Lima would be a nice parting gift.”

“A little redundant, though, Rach. Lima’s gonna be rubble by the end of the day.”

Rachel just shrugged and Quinn shook her head, concentrating on driving as quickly as she could, heading for the outskirts of the city and their meeting place with the others.


	2. Chapter 2

_One month earlier_

When her alarm went off at six o’clock, Quinn reached out to sleepily hit the off button, rolling briefly onto her front and burying under the covers for a few more seconds of warmth. Her eyes closed heavily and she squeezed them once, tightly, before opening them resolutely and sitting up in her bed.

She could hear the soft murmur of her parents’ voices coming from further down the hall. She knew they wouldn’t be out of bed yet, her dad usually got up just as she was leaving for the early morning Cheerios’ practice Coach Sylvester insisted on holding three times a week.

Throwing the covers back, Quinn shivered briefly. Although it was still warm for a lot of the day in early October, the mornings were chilly and Quinn quickly moved about her bedroom, pulling on her McKinley High sweats and t-shirt—the only good thing that could be said about their morning practices was that Coach at least allowed them slightly warmer clothes than for their normal after school sessions.

Once she was dressed, and her hair fastened in its customary ponytail, Quinn made her way through the house, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl in the kitchen as she passed.

Her car was cold when she slid into the seat, so Quinn let the engine run for a few minutes, pressing the button on the radio to cycle through stations as she waited for hot air to start coming through the vents. Once her car was at an appropriate temperature, Quinn fastened her seatbelt and set off for school.

The radio had landed on the local news station and Quinn listened idly as she drove. There wasn’t much that sparked her interest until the announcer paused to cut to an urgent breaking news story.

_“Reports are coming in from several regions in Ohio of an outbreak of a flu-like virus. The virus is highly contagious and anyone suffering from flu-like symptoms, including fever, shivering, chills, body aches or nausea, should report to the nearest emergency room for further testing.”_

Quinn once again zoned out—there were reports of new strains of flu almost every year, each one supposedly more virulent, more dangerous, and sent the general population into blind panic. She didn’t get sick. As far back as she could remember, she could probably count the number of times she’d caught the flu, or even the common could on the fingers of one hand.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the school, the traffic at that time of day was almost non-existent. Pulling into a parking space, she threw the car into park and grabbed her bag from the passenger seat before heading into the building and through to the Cheerios’ locker room.

Practice was, as usual, similar to what Quinn thought being in basic training would be like. In fact, if she were ever to end up in the army, Quinn thought she’d breeze through anything they could throw at her, because Sue Sylvester was more demanding, more brutal than anyone she’d ever met.

The steaming heat of the shower afterwards was like a godsend and Quinn took her time, luxuriating under the heavy flow of water. After a longer than normal shower, she only had fifteen minutes to get ready before first period started, so she moved quickly, pulling on her uniform and blow-drying her hair, before applying the few light touches of makeup that was all she needed.

Her first class of the day was Math. It was the only subject Quinn absolutely hated, she just couldn’t wrap her head around it, and she dreaded each and every class. Then there was the fact that she had to take it with Puck and Rachel, of all people. They were sitting together when she entered the classroom and both smiled up at her, Rachel greeting her with a small wave and Puck a wink and a, “Looking good, Quinn.”

She glared at Puck with the appropriate amount of venom, then glanced at Rachel, her face softening for a split-second before she schooled it back to it’s normal appearance of aggressive indifference.

Ms. Hammond walked through the door then, and Quinn quickly took her seat in the desk directly behind the one Puck and Rachel were sharing. Her notebook and textbook opened, she sat with a pencil dangling between her fingers, waiting for the class to start.

A commotion outside the door interrupted Ms. Hammond’s greeting and all eyes, including Quinn’s, turned away from her at the sound of a scream echoing down the empty corridor.

“What in the wor—” Ms. Hammond started to say, moving over towards the door, but she was cut off as a scream once again sounded outside.

One or two of the students had risen from their seats at the second scream, but a look from Ms. Hammond settled them. “Everyone stay where you are,” she said. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Once she’d left, the room broke out in conversation. Quinn heard snatches of speculation, ranging from the senior class pulling a prank to it being Jacob Ben Israel finally having snapped and brought a gun to school.

When Ms. Hammond still hadn’t returned after a couple of minutes, people started getting nervous. Puck turned in his seat, eyeing both Quinn and Rachel with a look that Quinn thought could be concern if it was from anyone else. “I’m gonna see what’s going on,” he said. “That didn’t sound like someone fucking around to me.”

“Be careful,” Rachel said, and Quinn nodded along. She might not like him most of the time, but she still wouldn’t want to see anything happen to him.

Puck moved over to the door and his hand was just reaching out to grab the handle when another loud scream sounded from the corridor, causing Rachel and several of the other kids to jump in their seats.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” Puck shouted, his eyes going wide, as he focussed on something outside. The outright terror in his voice drew all attention towards the front of the room, just in time for them to all catch a glimpse of Ms. Hammond as she stumbled past, face contorted in apparent pain and fingers clutching at a wound on her shoulder.

“Was that blood?” Someone asked, and Quinn could hear the beginnings of hysteria in the voice. “What the hell is going on?”

Voices were rising in panic all around them and when Puck jogged the few steps back towards her and Rachel, grabbing at their arms, Quinn allowed herself to be pulled from her seat without question.

“We have to go,” Puck said, his voice low and urgent. “Now.”

“Where?” Quinn asked, looking around the room. There was only one exit and she really didn’t want to take her chances with whatever the fuck was going on out there.

“The window,” Puck replied. “Help me with a desk, we’ll have to smash it.”

Quinn nodded, and followed Puck to the back of the room, looking quickly over her shoulder to make sure Rachel was still close by. She was, but she looked as worried as Quinn felt. Quinn reached for Rachel’s hand, squeezing it once, quick and tight, and Rachel squeezed back, a small smile gracing her lips for a split-second at the contact.

“C’mon,” Puck said, and grabbed one side of the desk closest to the window. Quinn picked up the other, and after Puck cleared the surrounding kids out of the way with a harsh, “Move it!” they launched the desk into the glass window pane.

It shattered instantly with a loud crash that startled everyone, even though they were expecting the sound, and the desk flew right through, landing on the concrete outside. Quinn raised her arm automatically at the impact, using the sleeve of her Cheerios jacket to shield her eyes from the worst of the shards.

When Quinn uncovered her eyes, Puck was already at the window, pushing away the remaining shards of glass that were still clinging to the frame. Rachel went to help and together, they managed to make the window safe to climb through.

Just as Puck was giving Rachel a boost up over the edge, the classroom door banged open and Quinn turned automatically towards the sound, almost immediately wishing she hadn’t. A girl—probably a freshman from her apparent age—stumbled through the door. Almost her entire front half was drenched in blood, and there was a large, nasty looking wound on her left arm, so deep Quinn was sure she saw bone. Several smaller wounds littered her body, each bleeding heavily and causing thick droplets of blood to drip down by her feet.

The girl looked wildly around the room, gasping in breaths and clutching at the gash on her arm.

“Fucking zombies.” She whimpered. “They’re fucking zombies.”


	3. Chapter 3

Quinn’s eyes shot to Puck, looking for confirmation of the girl’s words—or more likely, she thought, for him to dispute them.

Puck shrugged. “Dude was chowing down on some chick like it was his last meal,” he said. “I’d go with zombies.”

They didn’t have time to argue. Whatever the hell was going on, they had to get out of there, that much was obvious. Quinn just shook her head and moved quickly over to the window. She took over from Puck to help Rachel outside and accepted Puck’s help to climb out herself.

Puck vaulted over a couple of seconds later, then the three of them started jogging towards the front of the school and the student parking lot.

With the immediate danger over, Quinn could feel panic beginning to set in. She looked desperately around, hoping to see someone, anyone, who looked like they might have an idea what was happening.

There was no one; everywhere Quinn looked seemed to be in utter chaos. Several other classes of students appeared to have the same idea they’d had and the area was littered with broken glass and pieces of furniture. Students were fleeing in all directions. Some seemed unharmed, while others were nursing wounds on various parts of their bodies. Every now and then, above the general din of people calling out to each other, another scream would sound. Each time, Quinn felt her stomach flip unpleasantly as she wondered who it could be.

She had friends in there: Santana and Brittany; Mercedes; even most of the rest of glee club. Except for Puck and Rachel, she hadn’t seen any of them, and every time someone cried out in pain, Quinn sent up a prayer that it wasn’t someone she cared for.

As they ran, Quinn glanced over her shoulder, checking Rachel was still right behind her, and breathed a sigh of relief when she was there, only a couple of paces away. They were almost at the front of the building and Quinn increased her speed, rounding the final corner just in time to see Finn and Santana coming through the main entrance behind a group of freshmen.

“Santana!” She called out at almost the exact moment Puck shouted for Finn. Both stopped then turned in their direction, jogging quickly over to join them.

“What the fuck—” Santana started at the same time Finn blurted out, “They were eating Coach Beiste. _Eating her_ and—” His voice choked off into a sob and he bent over, clutching at his stomach. Quinn looked towards Puck who steered him back a few paces, just in time for him to empty the contents of his stomach up against the wall of the school.

Quinn looked away, knowing the sight of vomit was sure to make her own stomach rebel. She caught Santana’s eye, sharing a look of disbelief with the girl. “Did you see it...” she trailed off, unable to finish her thought, but it didn’t matter, Santana understood.

“No. We came from opposite directions. You seen anyone else?”

Quinn shook her head.

“We should text everyone to make sure they’re safe. I have my cell and everyone’s numbers,” Rachel said, reaching into her pocket to retrieve her phone.

“Not yet. We need to get out of here first. I don’t think whatever’s happening in there is going to stay contained in the building for much longer.” Quinn turned as she spoke, glancing over to Puck and Finn. “You done?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Finn said. “I just—I couldn’t—”

“It’s okay, dude.” Puck patted Finn on the shoulder, then to Quinn he said. “Can you take Rach in your car and I’ll take Finn?”

“Yeah,” Quinn replied. “Santana, you okay in your own car? We can meet back at my house.”

Santana nodded. “I’m going to get Brittany first. She’s home sick, but I don’t want her to be there alone.”

“We’re coming with you then,” Rachel said and as Santana started to protest, continued, “No one’s going anywhere alone, at least not until we know for sure what’s going on, so don’t argue, Santana.”

Santana rolled her eyes, but quickly agreed. “Fine,” she said. “We ready to go?”

~

They walked Santana to her car first, then crossed the short distance to where Quinn’s car was parked. She pressed the button on her key to unlock the doors and slid into the driver’s seat, waiting for Rachel to settle into the passenger side and buckle up before she started the engine.

As soon as they left the school grounds it became obvious that what was happening wasn’t just restricted to McKinley. There was something seriously wrong with the whole town. Quinn wasn’t quite ready to believe in the reality of zombies, but, honestly, she was running out of other explanations for why she kept seeing people being _bitten_ by other people.

Carefully navigating around a series of seemingly abandoned cars, Quinn glanced over to Rachel who was staring wide-eyed at everything going on outside.

“You okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, it’s just—it’s hard to believe half an hour ago we were waiting for class to start, and now... _this_.”

“I know, but—whatever happens—I mean, we’ve all got each other, we’ll do whatever we need to do to keep each other safe.” Quinn smiled reassuringly at Rachel but then her gaze snapped back to the road as she caught sight of a woman stumbling into the path of her car. She swerved, narrowly avoiding a collision and swore under her breath. “It’s like they don’t even notice the danger,” she said, shaking her head.

Rachel nodded her agreement, then turned in her seat, watching the path of the woman as she stumbled to the other side of the road.

"I'm gonna try to get hold of my dads," she said then, fishing her cell out of her pocket.

Quinn nodded, but stayed silent. Honestly, she didn't think there was much chance of Rachel getting through to them. If they were out and about when this thing hit she didn't think there was much chance for them at all.

Rachel tried one number, then another, but Quinn could hear the faint sound of the call going to voicemail each time.

"I'm sure they're just trying to get safe," Rachel said, and Quinn made a noncommittal noise in response. She hoped they were, but didn't want to say anything that might raise Rachel's hopes, just incase the worst had happened.

They were close to Brittany's house now. It seemed that outside of the central part of Lima there were less people around and therefore less destruction, and Quinn could drive quicker and easier.

In no time at all, they were pulling into Brittany's drive. Santana’s car was already there, abandoned with the driver’s door open and the keys still in the ignition.

~

Brittany’s house was quiet, almost disconcertingly so. Quinn trailed slowly after Rachel, looking carefully into each room as they passed.

It wasn’t until they reached the kitchen that they saw Santana. She was facing off with a blonde haired woman who Quinn recognised as being Brittany’s mom. In some strange parody of half the action movies Quinn had ever seen, they were slowly circling the island in the middle of the room, Mrs. Pierce occasionally lunging over the top of the counter towards Santana with a growling sound that set Quinn’s body on edge.

“Mrs. Pierce,” Santana said. “Mrs. Pierce, it’s me, Santana.” She shook her head and jumped quickly to the side when Mrs. Pierce once more reached out for her. Quinn could see the frustration in Santana’s eyes that the woman didn’t respond in any way to her words.

“Santana,” she said. “We need to go get Brittany. You can’t—I don’t think there’s any helping her.”

At the sound of Quinn’s voice, Mrs. Pierce turned, immediately spotting Quinn and Rachel by the door. Quinn had met the woman numerous times before, but there wasn’t a single spark of recognition in her eyes. They looked flat, dead, and Quinn shivered.

“Come on,” she said again. “We’ve got to go.”

Santana eyed Mrs. Pierce, who looked to be debating—if indeed she had enough brain capacity to debate—between going after Santana and making a rush for Quinn and Rachel. 

Deciding to take her chances, Santana made a run for the door. As she rounded the kitchen counter, Mrs. Pierce lunged. Quinn’s breath caught in her throat as she watched Santana twist out of Mrs. Pierce’s grip. The motion put Santana off balance and she went down, landing hard with her head bouncing off the stone tiles of the kitchen floor.

Mrs. Pierce went down after her and immediately turned on a dazed Santana, teeth bared and a vicious snarl sounding from her throat.

“Santana!” Quinn rushed forward. Grabbing the back of Mrs. Pierce’s shirt, she pulled the woman off, before pushing her violently backwards.

Santana stared in the direction Quinn had pushed Mrs. Pierce. Her eyes were wide and she was breathing heavily, the sound echoing loudly around the room. Quinn thought she must be in shock, and really, they all probably were, and the sooner they could get to a safe place to regroup, the better.

“Come on,” she said, offering Santana a hand to help her up. “Let’s go get Brittany and get out of here.”

Santana nodded dumbly, taking Quinn’s hand and getting slowly. “Is she—she’s not moving. Is she—is she dead?”

Quinn turned then, looking at where Mrs. Pierce sat slumped against the kitchen counter. Her eyes were staring blankly ahead and her body was limp. There was a large smear of blood running from the edge of the counter, down to behind her head and Quinn realised she must have pushed the woman with enough force that her skull fractured upon impact.

Bile immediately rose in Quinn’s throat and she turned, heaving up the contents of her stomach. She felt a hand on her back, then her hair was being gently pulled away from her face.

“She would have killed us,” Rachel said. “You did what you had to do, no one will blame you.”

Quinn’s eyes closed against her tears, willing them not to fall. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “So, so sorry.”

She knew she couldn’t afford to break down right then. Knew Rachel was right, that she did what she had to. It took some time, but she managed to gather herself. Setting her jaw and steeling her resolve, she looked determinedly from Rachel to Santana before heading out of the kitchen and towards the stairs to the second floor.

~

“Santana,” Quinn said quietly when they were halfway up the stairs. “If Brittany’s infected with whatever this is—” 

“She’s not.”

“But if she is... We have to be prepared.” Santana turned, looking down at Quinn and she could see grim determination in Santana’s eyes as they glared at each other.

“You let me handle it,” Santana said.

Quinn nodded her assent and Santana allowed them to continue up the last few steps.

Brittany’s bedroom was the second on the left and the three of them stood before the closed door, eyeing each other warily for a second before Santana called out.

“Britt,” she said. “It’s me, Santana. And Quinn and Rachel are here, too. We’re coming in.”

Santana pushed open the door slowly, stepping inside and peering around the room. Quinn and Rachel followed, and Quinn couldn’t help eyeing each shadowed corner of the room with suspicion. They didn’t have any weapons, and Quinn silently cursed herself for not thinking of grabbing a knife from the kitchen.

“Britt,” Santana tried again, but Quinn immediately shushed her, thinking she heard a noise from the other side of the room. Hearing it again when they all stopped moving, she looked over at Santana to confirm she’d heard it as well. At her nod, they both moved over to the walk-in closet on the far wall.

Santana flung open the doors before moving quickly backwards. She immediately moved back into the cramped space upon seeing Brittany curled up in the back of the closet, hugging Lord Tubbington to her chest.

“I knew something bad was happening,” Brittany said. “Mom told me I was being silly, but I knew it. I saw Mrs. Stevenson this morning and she didn’t look good at all.”

“I know,” Santana said, crouching down by Brittany and pulling her into a hug.

“Then I heard noises from downstairs, like Lord Tubbington makes when he’s upset with me, only it didn’t sound quite like another cat, and I got scared and hid in here.”

Quinn watched Santana pull Brittany closer for a second, before gently clearing her throat. “We need to go,” she said.

Santana inclined her head slightly in agreement and stood, pulling Brittany up with her. “We don’t know what’s going on yet, Britt” she said. “But we’re gonna go to Quinn’s and try to figure things out.”

“Okay,” Brittany replied, allowing Santana to guide them both downstairs. “But we’re bringing Lord Tubbington. I’m not leaving him here all on his own.”


End file.
